


think i better follow you around

by gavorn



Category: Star Wars Legends: The Old Republic (Video Game)
Genre: M/M, unbetaed, zenith's opinions are not the author's
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-18
Updated: 2019-12-18
Packaged: 2021-02-26 12:22:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,128
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21849595
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gavorn/pseuds/gavorn
Summary: "i've been dragging around from the end of your coat for two weeks / everywhere you go is swirling, everything you say has water under it // you're the tall kingdom i surround, think i better follow you around // you might need me more than you think you will." - brainy, the national" "You're attracted to me.""Yes." No resistance, no rebuttal. He's direct to a fault.It's not a total shock, but Zenith can't say he'd anticipated it either. He'd assumed Cas just didn't care about that sort of thing."Huh.""I trust you won't do anything with the information," Cas says. "But since you asked." He doesn't normally leave sentences hanging like that. It's the only hint so far of this being in any way out of the ordinary for him."I did ask," Zenith confirms. He doesn't make any promises. He doesn't know exactly what he would do with the information, but he's somehow glad he has it all the same."castory ariel, 6'6, barsen'thor,does not talk about his feelings. he doesn't.
Relationships: Male Jedi Consular | Barsen'thor/Zenith
Kudos: 16





	think i better follow you around

i.

Hoth is bad. 

Nothing more complicated than that. Beautiful, but bad. Zenith likes it for about an hour before the cold seeps through his armor, soaks down to his bones, and then he’s ready to be done. They still have a lot more to do, and he’s not going to complain, but he’s ready to leave the second it’s an option. 

It doesn’t get really bad until the nights. The first night, after they’d killed Valon, they stayed at the base, which wasn’t ideal, but at least tolerable. Zenith’s standards for living are low, scraping the bottom of the barrel, but Hoth is hellish. Hellish, but workable.

And then there’s the second night.

Cas has just spared the life of a groveling Imperial. It’s not what Zenith would have done, but he’s too damn cold to bother getting worked up about it. Iresso shows up with his men (only after they’ve cleared the place out, Zenith can’t help but notice), and insists he’s figured it all out, that they have to hit some Imp laboratory. 

Cas agrees, and then he says what Zenith has been hoping he wouldn’t: “We can stay here for the night.”

Great. 

Iresso’s men clear out fast. Zenith can’t blame them. He’d do the same, if he had the option.

He doesn’t say so aloud, but Cas seems to guess anyway. 

“We’re secure here,” he says, laying out the thermal sleeping bags. “Trying to get all the way back to the base will just waste time we could be traveling in the morning.” 

He’s right, which he usually is. Zenith has found it to be one of his most infuriating qualities. 

“Fine.” 

He’s slept on bare ground on Balmorra for weeks at a time, and it was easier to get comfortable than here. He knows they’re safe, that they cleared the building thoroughly, that they sealed the entrances, but he doesn’t like it anyway. It’s too big, too empty, their breathing echoing through the space. 

Add the fact that he’s so damn cold he can barely move, and there’s no chance of him sleeping tonight. 

Cas’s breathing is steady. Zenith doesn’t know if he’s actually managed to fall asleep, because he’s always that constant. 

He tenses his jaw and wills himself to deal with it. He’s survived worse. One night isn’t going to kill him. 

Cas is big, but he moves fast when he wants to. He’s right next to Zenith before he has time to react, tugging at the zipper of the sleeping bag.

“What the fuck?” Zenith’s instinct isn’t to point a blaster at his face, which is actually kind of significant. Still doesn’t mean he’s happy.

“I can hear you shivering from over there,” Cas says, like it’s obvious. “Move over.” 

“Hell no.”

Cas rolls his eyes. “You want to freeze to death? I’m not letting that happen.” He’s already wedging himself inside. It would’ve been a tight fit for him alone. With Zenith, he pretty much has to mold completely to his back for them to have any hope of both fitting. 

He’s like a furnace, though. Solid and heavy and _warm_ , still wrapped up in that damned fur coat he wears everywhere, reaching around and covering Zenith in it, too. He wants to complain, but it’s the most comfortable he’s been in months, if not years. He's asleep before he can even bring himself to snark.

He doesn't know what time it is when he wakes. There are no windows in the room they're in, but it's early, he thinks - has to be, because Cas is still beside him, not doing morning meditations like he usually does. He's right there, steady and hot and impossible to ignore. 

And _hard_ , Zenith realizes with a start. Awake? No. Maybe? He turns his head, but the motion just serves to bring them closer together. It's not unpleasant. Far from it. 

It could happen to anyone, he tries to think, it's a physical reaction, but Cas's hand is low on Zenith's hip, and even through clothes the touch is impossibly distracting. 

He finally gets a look back. Cas's eyes are open, his face as carefully blank as it ever is. Just staring at Zenith, like he's waiting for a response to a question he hasn't asked.

Zenith thinks for a few moments, and slowly, deliberately, nods.

Cas's hand slides under Zenith's waistband and lowers. 

And that's. Well. Zenith had known what he was agreeing to, but he hadn't expected him to move that damn fast. He shouldn't be surprised. He knows Cas doesn't bother wasting time. 

Stars, his hands are big. Gentle, but efficient, which Zenith can appreciate. 

He's had practice, Zenith thinks, but then there's that whole Jedi celibacy thing. The implications are fairly clear. Cas doesn't go out of his way to break the Code, so the far simpler explanation is that he's doing to Zenith what he would do to himself. The thought is more arousing than it has any real right to be. 

He's not making any attempts to grind forward, or to pull Zenith back into him, but he's still impossible to ignore. Solid and steady and _present_ against him.

It's been a long time since Zenith trusted anyone enough to do this. If he'd been asked, he would've said he didn't trust Cas that much, either. Apparently he does. Maybe it's strange, that he'd trust him with a lightsaber in his hand more than - 

Well.

"Zenith," Cas breathes, and Zenith closes his eyes. He hates that his heart is going rabbit-fast, that he's letting himself be vulnerable like this, that Cas had the damn nerve to come over here with his warmth and his hands and his _body_. Stars, he's wanted this, wanted in ways he wouldn't admit to himself, let alone anyone else. Cas's hands, and Cas's thighs, and Cas's _hips_ , fuck, he's -

"Zenith," Cas repeats, louder, clearer. "Zenith."

Zenith's eyes fly open.

Cas's hands are being kept to himself. He's not exactly leaning away, but he doesn't really have the physical option to.

"We need to move," Cas says, no sign he'd even realized what Zenith was thinking - dreaming - about. He knows. He's too observant not to. But he doesn't say a damned thing about it. 

Honestly, it's probably a blessing.

ii.

So he’s attracted to Cas.

That’s fine. He can live with that. He’s certainly not about to make any advances, but he can come to terms with it. 

He can live with it.

He’s not pining, or anything ridiculous like that. He’s just a little more aware. 

It’s fine.

He’s fine. 

He’ll shove it down his throat until he chokes. Doesn’t matter. Not important. Too much to do. 

He’s fine.

And he is. He keeps his mouth shut. Through Belsavis, through Voss, through Corellia. Cas joins the Jedi Council. Zenith doesn't say a word.

He's being practical, really. Relationships are admissions of weakness, distractions he can't afford. He has two purposes right now, and neither involves sex or romance.

(Gain power on Balmorra. Keep Cas safe. He doesn't know which order. It doesn't matter which order.)

Maybe he thinks about it a little. Maybe he thinks about it more than he should. It's not like he's doing anything wrong. They're just thoughts. Everyone has them.

Stars, Cas's damned _hands_. It's hard to be around him sometimes, not that Zenith would ever admit that.

He's fine, though.

  
  


iii.

"So Jedi _never_?" Nadia asks. She's sitting on top of the holo console, legs folded, and Zenith is honestly surprised Cas hasn't chastised her for it yet. He might just not be aware - his eyes are still closed - but it's not like him to not monitor the situation completely, so Zenith assumes he knows and has chosen to forgive her. 

For his own part, Zenith is sitting with his back to the wall. It's a habit he'd gotten into, watching Cas meditate - he looks so damn _vulnerable_. Zenith knows he's not, but he feels the need to watch his back anyway. Just in case. 

He didn't see Nadia's joining as any reason to stop. She hasn't asked why he's there yet, but then again, she's been on the ship for so long she probably already noticed the routine. 

"Theoretically, no." Cas doesn't look pissed, but then again, he never really does. Not until someone's already got a lightsaber through their gut.

She watches him, eyes wide, for an elaboration. He sighs.

"Some people don't exactly follow that rule."

"But you do?" she asks. Zenith can't tell if she's being forward or just genuinely curious. He doubts Cas knows, either. 

"I do.” 

Zenith thinks they all knew _that_ already. 

“Do you ever even want to break it?" 

"It's not about the rule," Cas says, more patient than Zenith would be in his place. "I just don't feel the need."

"But do you ever _want_ to?" she repeats. 

"Sometimes."

That catches Zenith's attention. He turns his head to watch Cas, who doesn't look bothered by the admittance, not that Zenith might be able to tell if he were. He's a brick wall, emotionally and physically, massive even sitting on the floor meditating like he is now. Like he was trying to, now, at any rate.

"Sometimes?" Nadia sounds about as surprised as Zenith feels.

"I'm not about to discuss what I find attractive with you."

"Sorry," she says. She doesn't look very sorry. There's a spark of something in her eye. Curiosity, maybe, or want, or hunger. Zenith finds he doesn't especially like the latter two options. 

Doesn't stop him from sharing the impulse to question it, though. Surely the topic bears more elaboration. Surely Cas is willing to say more.

Except that he’s not.

“Go find Felix and Tharan. They’ve been on the fleet long enough,” he tells her, and it’s not cruel but it’s a clear dismissal. 

“But I - “ She has to know it’s pointless.

“ _Go._ ” 

She pouts, but goes. Cas doesn’t move again. Zenith is starting to think he’s forgotten Zenith is even in the room, totally absorbed in his meditations, but then he speaks. 

“Zenith,” he says, not opening his eyes. 

"Yeah?"

"You were paying attention." How he _knew_ , Zenith can't tell. 

"Maybe."

"You were." Still no sign of anything less than indifference. "I'm more inclined to answer you than Nadia."

"Why?"

"Why am I willing to answer? Or why I don't have sex?" 

That was blunter than Zenith would have expected. He's not sure why - it's certainly in keeping with everything Zenith knows about him. Maybe it's just the subject.

"Both."

Cas takes a long breath. "Because I trust your intentions more than hers," he says. "And because it isn't necessary, and I have specific tastes anyway."

"Specific?"

Cas is quiet for a long time. Zenith starts to think he's not getting an answer. "It'd have to be someone I trusted before I'd even consider it. That's not a wide demographic." He takes another breath, then exhales slowly. "Inside of that, there aren't exactly a lot of people I'm attracted to."

"What does that mean?"

"One," he says. 

"Not Nadia." 

Cas actually shudders a little. It's the first physical sign he's given that he's paying attention. "No," he agrees. "Not Nadia."

Zenith evaluates. Trust is a narrow bracket, yes. He's fairly confident that outside of his Master, everyone Cas trusts is on the ship. 

Not Qyzen. Cas respects him, but Zenith feels comfortable saying that's it. Tharan's with Holiday, and too shallow besides. Weak-willed. Not for Cas.

"Iresso," Zenith says. The idea doesn't sit well with him, and he can feel the wrongness even before he hears an answer. 

"No." Cas is a stone wall again. "If you're going to insist on guessing, I'm not going to indulge you in replies."

He wouldn't, no. "Me." It's the only option left. Cas barely trusts the diplomats to live on the ship after the whole Blaesus situation. He certainly wouldn't sleep with any. "You're attracted to me."

"Yes." No resistance, no rebuttal. He's direct to a fault. 

It's not a total shock, but Zenith can't say he'd anticipated it either. He'd assumed Cas just didn't care about that sort of thing. 

"Huh."

"I trust you won't do anything with the information," Cas says. "But since you asked." He doesn't normally leave sentences hanging like that. It's the only hint so far of this being in any way out of the ordinary for him.

"I did ask," Zenith confirms. He doesn't make any promises. He doesn't know exactly what he _would_ do with the information, but he's somehow glad he has it all the same.

  
  


iv.

Nadia doesn’t knock. She never knocks.

“He’s in love with you,” she says, “Isn’t he?”

“What.”

“Cas.” There’s an unvoiced _duh_ that Zenith still hears clear as day. 

He runs through a few replies and lands on “What the fuck gave you that idea?”

“I just know.” There’s a determined jut to her jaw that says she’s not about to drop it, but there’s a shine in her eyes - she’s still on that damned crush, Zenith realizes. That’s what this is about. 

“Just because he doesn’t want _you_ doesn’t mean he’s in love with me.” The words come out harshly, though he can't say he didn't intend it. He doesn't dislike Nadia. But he's not the only one who's gotten tired of watching her immature pining. Maybe he just hopes she'll be hurt enough to retreat, to lick her wounds and leave him alone. To _drop this_.

She's not. "He _is_ ," she insists. Stubborn to a fault. 

"If you're so sure, why bother asking me?"

"I didn't know if you knew!"

"I guess I don't," Zenith says flatly, "Seeing as it's not true."

"It is," she repeats. 

"For the sake of argument, let's say you're right," he says, as much as it pains him. "How the fuck would you know?"

"The way he looks at you." She looks nauseatingly earnest. "He doesn't look at anyone else like that." 

Zenith - unwillingly - thinks about how Cas looks at him. He fails to see anything exceptional about it. It's how Cas looks at him. It's fine. It's normal. There are no stars, no hearts, nothing like that.

"I have no idea what you're talking about."

She huffs. "You're just as bad as he is," she snaps, and leaves without elaborating.

v.

Had he thought she would let it go?

She corners him again. Cas is off the ship, doing something important. She's clever enough to have the timing down, he'll give her that. 

"Why do you sit outside his door when he sleeps?"

Stupid question. He can tell what she's getting at, what she thinks she understands. 

"I watch his back."

"He asked you to?"

"No." He hadn't, not point-blank, but he knows. Approves. Understands. And he definitely gets more rest since Zenith started doing it. 

"Why?"

"He's useless without sleep." It's not a lie. Maybe by omission, if she wants to nitpick. And she always does. "He gets better rest if he knows he's safe."

"Sure," she says, eyeing him like she thinks she knows something. "Okay. That's why." 

"That _is_ why."

She nods, looking a little too smug. "And he feels safe with you watching him...why?"

"He trusts me," Zenith says, scowling. Nadia thinks she knows so damn much, never accepting anything he says as face value. It's maddening. 

There's a spark in her eye. "He trusts you," she repeats.

"He fucking does," Zenith confirms, scowling. "That's not news. You haven't made any breakthroughs."

"Haven't I?"

" _No._ "

  
  


vi.

“You’re consistent.” 

Cas barely looks at him. He’s reorganizing the equipment locker, inspecting every item and filing it aside. Zenith doesn’t know what the problem was - it was arranged to Cas’s exacting standards before - but apparently it’s there nonetheless. 

“I take that as a compliment.” 

“I figured.” He doesn’t know if the full intent translated. Cas’s decisions, however cold they may seem in the moment, always have purpose behind them. His motives are always the same. Zenith appreciates that.

He just questions it, a little. 

“What changes that?”

Cas takes longer to answer this time. “You’re being vague. Ask a real question.”

“You were willing to leave Nadia.” It isn't a question, no, but it's been bothering him since Corellia. He can't say why. He would have done the same. 

“For the time being. Not forever. She can take care of herself.” He’s right. Something still doesn’t sit well with Zenith, though. Some question bubbling out of his mouth. 

“Hypothetically,” he says.

“Hypothetically?” 

“Hypothetically,” Zenith repeats. “If I was in that kind of situation.” 

“You can take care of yourself, too.” 

“If I couldn’t.” 

“What do you want me to say?” His back is to Zenith, posture even straighter than usual. The usual controlled flatness to his voice is lifting a little. It’s unnerving. “What are you really trying to ask? If I’d completely ignore the greater good - my own moral code - to save you?”

“Yes.”

“Is that really an answer you want to hear?”

For a moment, Zenith considers. Nadia’s insufferable presumption has been weighing on him more than he’d like to admit. He knows what the correct answer is - what he’s supposed to want. That Cas is a leader, first and foremost, and he has to be ready to make sacrifices. That Zenith thought he stopped being afraid to die a long time ago. 

“Yes.”

Another delay. He wonders if Cas has refused to answer, if Zenith is being dismissed. When Cas finally speaks, he’s composed again, without so much as a hint he’d ever slipped. 

“Yes.” 

They’ve been double-talking so much it takes a second to process, to understand exactly which question Cas confirmed. He hadn’t expected the twinge in his stomach. 

Cas doesn’t repeat himself or elaborate. Zenith isn’t initially sure where to go next. He hadn’t expected a yes. 

“Nadia says you’re in love with me.”

“Nadia says a lot of things.” Cas’s answer is so quick, so decisive, it’s almost easy to ignore that he didn’t confirm or deny it. Zenith notices. He always does. 

“Are you?”

They’ve been avoiding it for too long. It’s impressive, considering how direct they both are, but maybe some things need avoiding. Maybe it’s the kind of blind spot that crashes ships. 

“Do you believe her?” 

Another damned counter. Zenith could fire back, but he won’t. He’s done. He doesn’t need to think about an answer, doesn’t fight the one that’s already waiting to leave his mouth. 

“Yes.” 

Cas stills, whatever he’d been doing momentarily forgotten. His whole body is frozen. 

“Nadia makes things sound a lot more graceful than they are.”

It’s not a no. Not a refusal. Strange, having to hunt for subtleties from Cas. New. 

“Is she wrong?”

A long sigh. 

“I wouldn’t put it into those words.” 

That’s no, then. 

"What words would you put it into?" 

Cas goes quiet again.

"You are important to me," he says finally. "More important than you have any right to be."

It's not sentimental. Not tender. Just a fact.

Zenith understands. Zenith understands all too well.

"Get up and look at me." It comes out more like an order than he'd meant for it to. More surprisingly, Cas obeys. He's a full nine inches taller than Zenith, seventy pounds on him easily. Initially he'd registered as a threat, but that didn't last. The effects he has on Zenith are of an entirely different sort now. 

He still looks composed, face neutral, hair almost-but-not-quite in his face just like always. He pulls it back when they're out, hides it under hoods, so it's only on the ship Zenith ever sees him like this. He knows the routines. How could he not?

"You're important to me, too."

Cas nods briefly. "I know." 

Zenith doesn't know where they go from here. 

vii.

"Zenith." Cas puts a hand on his shoulder, comes out of nowhere, the sneaky fucker. Zenith’s used to it by now - enough that he doesn’t clock him in the face on instinct alone - but he doesn't think he'll ever get used to the damn size of his hands. 

"What?" 

Cas is using his Rift Ambassador, I-get-what-I-want voice. Zenith isn't sure what he's trying to accomplish yet, but he doesn't doubt it'll work. There aren't a lot of things he wouldn't do, if Cas asked.

"Come back to my room." 

Zenith's eyes widen.

It's not a bad time, all things considered. They're docked on Coruscant, so the others are gone. Ship's quiet. They're alone.

Cas's grip feels like it's burning straight through him. Like there's going to be a mark left in the shape of his palm wrapped around Zenith's shoulder. 

Not clawing, not demanding. Just present.

"Okay," Zenith says.

Cas's grip tightens a little before relaxing, and he pulls his hand back and turns. Heading for his room. He knows Zenith will follow.

Isn't that how it always goes?

The door closes behind Zenith with a startling finality. Cas starts to shed layers quickly. Efficiently. The gloves, and the coat, and the green tunic, and the belts. Zenith knows he should probably do the same, but for the moment, he's watching. He doesn't see Cas bare like this much. Glimpses, maybe.

This is not glimpses.

Somehow he looks bigger out of the armor than he does in it, which isn't fair. There's hair on his chest, his arms - how _human_ of him, Zenith thinks - and across his stomach, thickening where it disappears beneath his pants. Zenith wants to touch it. To know if it’s as soft as it looks. He keeps his hands to himself.

Cas steps out of the boots, then looks up. His eyes are on Zenith's when he hooks his fingers in his waistband, dragging his pants down.

There's maybe something to what Nadia had been saying about that look. It makes Zenith feel like the only other person in the world. He'd thought Cas had that effect on everyone.

Not like this. No. 

Cas leaves his underwear on when he stills. Watching Zenith intently - expectantly. 

He swallows hard and complies. 

He doesn't know the last time he undressed in front of another person like this. _For_ another person like this. He feels tiny next to Cas, small and smooth and scarred. Cas's eyes trace the marks. He doesn't ask where they came from.

Maybe someday Zenith will explain. He thinks he still remembers the stories behind every one. Even the ones he'd tried to forget. Especially the ones he'd tried to forget. 

For now, though, he doesn't. He stops stripping once he reaches underwear, looking as Cas for - validation? Approval? Reassurance? He doesn't know.

Cas nods.

He’s staring. His face is focused, intent, studying Zenith like he’s just another artifact. He gets the feeling Cas can see straight through him, that he’s reading every secret Zenith has ever kept like it’s scrawled across his skin. It’s unnerving. Unsettling. 

Hot.

He hooks a finger in his waistband and drags it down slowly, mouth dry. Cas’s eyes follow. If he's impatient, he doesn't say so - Zenith wouldn't blame him, he's certainly lacking patience himself, but Cas has always had a higher tolerance.

His underwear hits the floor, and Cas stares. Openly. His eyes finally flick back up to Zenith's face - they're dark, intent. 

He doesn't take nearly as long as Zenith did.

Zenith has been with humans before, or at least, whoever he used to be has. They're not so different from Twi'leks in that area of the anatomy. 

Zenith stares anyway. It is different, this time, if only because it's Cas. He doesn't blush, doesn't flinch, just stares right back. His dick is in proportion with the rest of him. Zenith hated himself for wondering if that would be the case. 

Neither of them seem sure of what comes next. It's not like Cas to be caught without a plan, enough so that Zenith almost says as much, but oh. Oh, he hasn't done this before. He's always especially careful when things are new.

"You haven't," Zenith says.

"No." Pointless denying it when they both know. Zenith can't stop looking at him. The amount of _hair_. 

Cas's voice is still level, but his body gives away just how interested he actually is. Good. Easier. 

Zenith could just watch him. Just like this. He weighs the risks for longer than he should need to. There's no going back from this.

(He knows what Cas would say, if he said that out loud. That there's no going back from anything. Time is linear. Mistakes can only be repaired, not erased.)

He inches his hand down carefully, lets Cas track it with his eyes before he actually does anything, and lowers it to wrap around himself. He swears he can watch Cas's pupils dilate, black overtaking the hazel almost completely. 

Zenith doesn't let his own eyes slip closed, though he's tempted. He needs to know how Cas is reacting. Still staring, not moving, and Zenith's hand stills. 

"Should I," he says, not meaning for it to come out quite so much like a request for orders.

"Keep going." 

He'd resent the command, but this is Cas, Zenith's been following his word for three years now and doesn't plan to stop anytime soon. There's a hint of uncertainty to his voice, too, not a familiar one. He's biting down on his lip. Still staring at Zenith.

And Zenith isn't about to stop listening _now_. 

"If you say so," he says, fighting to keep his voice blank and his eyes on Cas's face. He can't say the last time he'd had sex. Sometime before the war chewed him up and spit him back out. Not like it ever could have prepared him for this, anyway. He doubts it ever would've been traditional. Definitely not romantic. That's not who either of them are. 

This, though - 

(He's gotten good at being quiet, but maybe he's not trying as hard as he could. Maybe he lets a little sound go just to test the waters, to see the look on Cas's face. He steals a glimpse down, and wishes he hadn't, because not only is Cas very much aware of him looking but he's hard because of Zenith and that's. Well.)

-this, this is right. This is them.

"Bed?" He doesn't know what possesses him to ask other than the fact it's getting increasingly difficult to stay upright, but Cas nods, watches him back towards the bed. Keeps watching as he settles, back against the headboard, and - on a brief nod from Cas - continues. 

He's still standing, hands curled into fists at his sides, frozen like he's gotten sprayed down with carbonite. Just watching, breathing just barely faster, looking at Zenith like he's everything.

Something like a whimper slips out. He hates the sound, hates how damn exposed he feels, but it's enough that Cas finally moves. 

Or, well. He's across the room, and then he isn't, kneeling on the bed. Zenith's seen it a thousand times - never seen it used on him, though. And never _naked_.

He's startled enough that his rhythm falters, just for a heartbeat, but Cas apparently sees it as an opportunity. He leans in - he's only in Zenith's space for a moment before covering Zenith's hand with his own, but it's enough time for Zenith to process the lost look on his face. He's never seen Cas in this far over his head before.

He doesn't get to dwell on that. If he'd thought Cas's hands were big before, he'd been underestimating. He hadn't seen them against him, then, and the contrast is striking. 

Some part of him wants to look for reassurance, or perhaps to provide it. _Are you okay_ , or _is this what you want, am I,_ or _tell me I'm good, tell me this is right._ Zenith swallows it all down. He's gotten good at that.

Neither of them make much of a sound, just breathing rough and out-of-sync, too loud in the hollow quiet of the ship. 

It's been a long time since someone else has touched him. It's not unfamiliar as a whole, but it's distinctly new all the same. He catches Cas's eyes and he looks -

He looks like he does when he finds an artifact for the first time and just figures out what to do with it, or when he starts reading the first words in a language he doesn't speak. This is new to him, yes, but he's clever. Zenith's body is only the next thing for him to learn. 

He turns his wrist, slides with his thumb, and Zenith's hips jerk up off the bed involuntarily. There's something like a spark in Cas's eye at that. 

"Nnh," Zenith says, and yes, definitely a spark. Cas repeats the motion. 

This time, Zenith bites down. He's not caught off guard. Not again. 

Cas is still investigating. Solving Zenith's body as if there's a solution. Focused, intent - but he looks up, sees Zenith watching his face, and for a moment, he's unsure again. He doesn't look away, and his hand pauses, but there's something on his face, something like - yes - Cas _smiles_ , gently, hesitantly, but a smile all the same. Zenith could count on one hand the number of times he's seen Cas honestly smile before. And it never looked anything like this.

viii.

They don’t really dwell on the afterglow.

That’s not who either of them are. Cas’s hand lingers on Zenith’s hip for half a heartbeat, and then he’s gone, dressed again quickly, layer upon layer wrapped back around him, cotton and leather looking a lot more like armor than they have any right to. It looks right, on him. 

Not to say Zenith disliked the brief vulnerability - he appreciates it, he does, and he knows how difficult it had been for Cas because it’s just as damned difficult for Zenith. They’re not inclined to displays of affection. 

But Cas back in the robes is good, too. Cas safe. Cas sure of himself. 

Zenith allows himself a moment to observe, and then he’s getting dressed himself. He’s not sure where they’re going. If they have an assignment, he hasn’t been told yet.

But he’s okay with that, he realizes. Wherever they end up, the outcome will be the same. 

He’d follow Cas anywhere, anyway. 

Willingly. Without hesitating.

He can admit that.

(Not out loud, maybe.)

Cas leaves the room without a word. Zenith isn’t long behind him. 

Nadia is crossing the hallway, and her face lights up when she sees them. Cas brushes past and heads downstairs, but Zenith stops, narrows his eyes.

“Don’t say anything,” he says, and she shakes her head, but she’s still beaming too much for the effect to be convincing.

“I didn’t,” she insists. “I’m just happy.”

Zenith bites down on the words _me too_.

**Author's Note:**

> notes from seven months later: so it turns out writing about two characters who both refuse to talk about their feelings is...really hard, actually, and it's mildly OOC for Cas to bring it up in this, but hey, what can I do. Also the sex scene is not great and I'm sorry for that.


End file.
